


All is Fair

by machine_gun_manda_panda



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vietnam, Vietnam War, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:30:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machine_gun_manda_panda/pseuds/machine_gun_manda_panda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in love and war - or at least that is how the saying goes. Draco, however, does not believe this. He believes that life is unjust and war and love are exactly that - life.<br/>While stationed in Vietnam, Draco receives a letter from an interesting girl and their correspondence might just lead to a change in this perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Letter

**Author's Note:**

> The Harry Potter series and all characters associated with such do not, in any way, belong to me. 
> 
> Setting: America/Vietnam in the late 1960s and 1970s.
> 
> Rated M for further chapters.

Vietnam, March 1969:

Draco slumped down on the ground with the weight of the world, which was, at the moment, about 73 pounds, strapped to his shoulders.  
“Stupid fucking parents making me move to that stupid fucking country just to get shipped off to another stupid fucking country.”

“Malfoy, quit muttering to yourself and help me pass out these shitty church letters.”

That was Lieutenant Severus Snape. If it weren’t for the fact that he was in a position of leadership, he would be considered a mute. Severus Snape was tall, lanky but surprisingly strong, and kind of grimy, but everyone here was grimy so Draco couldn’t really hold that against him. His eyes were too small for his head and Draco imagined that if he had longer hair his forehead wouldn’t look so big thus fixing the problem of his tiny eyes. His nose looked like he had gotten into too many bar fights and his mouth, when not talking, was in a constant state of straightness, no evidence of smiles or frowns.

He shrugged off the radio and stood up, careful not to attract too much attention to anyone who could be nearby. He took the stack of letters from Snape and his eyes scanned over the first name.   
“Finnigan.”  
“Zabini.”  
“Clark.”  
“O’Brien.”  
4 more names came out before Draco got to the last letter, which was addressed to him. He grunted, unenthusiastically, before opening the letter written by a girl with a weird name. 

Unlike the other men, Draco was not particularly sentimental. While all the soldiers around him carried a piece of home, Draco carried nothing; no pictures, letters, or personal trinkets. His 73 pounds was made of necessity, rank, and specialty. He wasn’t worried about losing himself to this godforsaken war because he already lost himself back home. 

_Dear Draco Malfoy,_  
Hello! My name is Hermione (pronounced Her-my-oh-knee, in case you were having trouble) Granger. I am part of a writing club and we are writing to soldiers to thank you. What you are doing for this country is brave, noble, and will never be forgot. I want to extend my friendship to you in this very hard time. I imagine that you have people in your life to whom you talk to about what is going on over there, but if you ever need a person whose face you cannot picture, I am happy to oblige. In case you need some help deciding whether to proceed with correspondence, I will tell you a little about myself.   
I am 21 years old and in my third year of college at Harvard University. I am originally from New York but moved to Massachusetts for school. Unless initiated by yourself, I will always avoid the topic of politics. I don’t particularly like talking about them anyway, but now a days it is very hard to not to be pulled into a very lengthy political conversation. I love Elvis, The Beatles, and Aretha Franklin. But most of all, I love books. There is no way I could ever pick a favorite novel. Writing and reading are so therapeutic and there is never a perfect time for reading, because every time is the perfect time. I hope to add your letters to my regular reading list.   
I would love to learn more about you if you would give me the chance.   
I wish you the best of luck and you are in my prayers.

_Sincerely,_  
Yours to talk to,   
Hermione Granger 

Draco felt weird reading this random letter. Not that it was the first one he had ever read. He had been here for two and a half months now and even in that short time, he had gotten 7 of these group letters. They always said, “thank you,” and they always said something about prayers, but this is the first one he had gotten with an invitation of, as she said, friendship. Of course all of the letters wanted a response, but there was something about this strange girl who loved books that encouraged him to write back. Maybe it was because she was the same age as him and from the same state rather than a middle aged lady from a Baptist church somewhere in Missouri. Maybe it was because she described reading as therapeutic and he felt the same way when he wasn’t in the middle of a weird country. Maybe it was because he didn’t have anyone else to write to. His parents would never want to hear of the things he experienced and he didn’t think she would either, but she offered. His only other friends were there with him, besides Pansy Parkinson, who was engaged to Blaise Zabini, who sat across from him.  
Without much more thought, he grabbed a pencil and a piece of stationary and started to write.


	2. Response

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hi readers!**   
> **I would like to start off by apologizing with my entire being for multiple things. Here is a list for you:**   
> **1\. This chapter was supposed to be up awhile ago, but I've had a lot of stuff on my plate with work, holidays, and conventions.**   
> **2\. This chapter was actually supposed to be longer, containing both a Hermione part AND a Draco part, but because it took me so long to get back to writing and because I haven't revised the Draco part, I am giving you just Hermione. Draco's part will be at the beginning of chapter 3(since Draco and Hermione's parts were happening simultaneously. Oops.)**   
> **3\. I really am so so sorry to keep you waiting this long.**
> 
> **Please accept my apology and if you like the story or want to see something specific that I could maybe write in, please please please let me know. Your opinions and criticisms and thoughts mean the world to me.**
> 
> **Disclaimer: My bro HP and Co do not belong to me in anyway.**   
> **SETTING: Amercia in the late 1960s and 1970s**

America, 2 weeks later

“Oh my gosh! Ronald! Ronald come here!” Hermione stood in the door way of her apartment holding a stack of mail. The one piece she was particularly excited about was her first Vietnam response. In the corner of the envelope was a simple, “DM,” so she quickly sifted through her mind, remembering all the names of all the soldiers she wrote. Only one matched the initials.

When her boyfriend didn’t come running at her call, she closed the door and tossed her knapsack down on the couch in front of her, sitting next to it for a moment. She set the response to the side to look through the rest of the mail. Two bills, a postcard from her mother, and a letter for Ron from his mother made up the remains of the original stack. “Ron! You have mail.”

“What is it ‘Mione? I’m a bit busy,” Ron said, glancing up from the chessboard that sat in between him and his best friend, Harry. The obnoxiously tall red head stood up, grinning at his girlfriend while bounding over to her. “Why are you so smiley today,” he asked, pulling her up into an embrace and leaning over to whisper, “I missed you while you were gone.”

Hermione leaned onto her tip toes to reach her boyfriend’s lips, kissing him lightly before pulling away. “I got a response, Ron. From one of the soldiers I wrote to.” She watched as her boyfriend’s grin turned into a smile. “That’s great Hermione! Read it to us while we finish this game.” 

Ron took her by the hand and led her to the small space she claimed as a dining room. The table was a fold up card table with a wooden chair at each side, but it still gave her a feeling of togetherness when her and her friends ate supper and played games there. She didn’t have a lot of friends, but her two best friends, Ron and Harry, practically lived with her. At the moment they were in the middle of an intense chess match. Ron was winning.

“Hey, Hermione. It’s about time you got back. Ron was going frantic.”  
“Shut it Harry and take your damn move.”  
Hermione laughed at her best friends and sat to watch what looked like would be a quick finish.  
Harry looked reluctantly at the board and finally moved his knight to the space E5. Ron hardly glanced at the pieces before taking Harry’s knight with his Queen and announcing, “Check.”  
“Fuck man. You’re too good at this,” Harry said, moving his dark hair out of his face and tipping his King over to show defeat. “So ‘Mione, what does the letter say?”

“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t read it yet.” Hermione got up to get the letter and during the short walk decided that she wanted to read it in private. “You know what guys. I think I am gonna take a nap before that party or whatever, so we’ll read it later, ‘kay?” All she heard was mumbled yeses and the setting up of the chessboard as she slipped the letter in her pocket and went to her room. “Wake me up a couple hours before, okay Ron?”  
“Yeah. ‘Mione. No problem.”

Hermione slipped off her sandals, hopped onto her bed, and tore the envelope open.

_Dear Hermione,_  
 _That’s an interesting name. A bit odd, but I guess I can’t say anything. My name is Draco for Christ’s sake._  
 _Thank you for your letter. It is most appreciated what your club does. I know a lot of soldiers who love hearing from the people back home. I will apologize up front, my letters may be short most of the time, but I think furthering correspondence would be nice. Also, I don’t really know what to say, so it if it inappropriate, I’m sorry for that too._  
 _I am not a sentimental person but it would be nice to do something in my spare time besides think about crap surrounding me._  
 _Although you offered, I am positive that you don’t want to hear about what happens here. In my honest opinion, this place is a pile of shit and what goes on here is the same. Sorry. That’s probably something I shouldn’t say._  
 _Harvard, huh? Nice. You must be pretty intelligent then. With that being said, I reaffirm my position on you not wanting to know about this place. Smart people are already sad enough._  
 _I’m 22. I finished my last semester a month before getting drafted. I like music, but I don’t know much about it. I do like your comment on reading though, so I pose you a question for your next letter. Although you said you couldn’t pick a favorite: What are your top 5 favorite novels?_  
 _Like I said, I don’t really know what to write about, but questions help, so send one after your response. Maybe this will help move things along._

_Until next time,  
RTO Draco Malfoy_

 

Hermione smiled as she closed the letter even though it was nothing like she thought. Draco seemed kind, but it was obvious he didn’t want to be there and that he was not one to hide it. She still couldn’t believe it. This letter was her first real response and the thought made her giddy. She put the letter in the drawer of her bedside table and began to think about her top five favorite books.


End file.
